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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129426">What Would Your Boyfriend Think?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leatherboundbirate/pseuds/Leatherboundbirate'>Leatherboundbirate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undercover Boss: Starkiller Base - SNL Sketch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Choking, Degradation, Dirty Talk, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, primal kink...kinda, smacking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:00:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leatherboundbirate/pseuds/Leatherboundbirate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt owns you on the breakroom table during his shift.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt The Radar Technician/You, Matt the Radar Technician/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Would Your Boyfriend Think?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Shuck. Shuck. Shuck. </em>The metal table legs scrape against the break room floor.</p>
<p>“Fuckkk, this cunt is so wet,” Matt groans, thrusting his monster cock into you, the squelching sound of your pussy leaking around him, “like a fuckin’ Slip N’ Slide or some shit.” He readjusts his angle and picks up the pace, hitting into your cervix, making you see stars and moaning his name in a voice you don’t even recognize.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” he huffs in between thrusts, “you like that, you fuckin slut? Huh?” You think you reply, but truth be told, you’re not completely sure you’re even on this planet anymore–-no thoughts, just the feeling of being stretched and abused to your limit.</p>
<p>“What, nothing to say?” He holds onto you with a bruising grip, pounding in harder, “can’t even get out a simple fuckin answer. Nothin’ in that pretty little head but cock, huh?” You let out a whine.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” he growls as he yanks your top down, pulling your tits from your bra and watching them bounce with his movements.</p>
<p>Shoving three fingers into your mouth, he commands, “Suck.” You wrap your lips around him, greedily sucking until the tips start to prune. He shoves them back to your uvula, making you gag a couple of times, forcing saliva to pool under your tongue and drip out of the corners of your mouth, leaving a wet trail down your neck. He removes his fingers to circle them around your nipples, coating them in your spit with soft touches and pinches; cool air hits your wet nipples making them stand up.</p>
<p>“I wonder what your boyfriend would think,” he pants, “if he saw you right now. Does he know what a fucking slut his girlfriend is? Laying on a break room table in the middle of the day, all wet and spread out like a fuckin’ starfish,” <em>thrust-thrust-thrust</em>, “taking my cock. Letting me do <em>nasty</em> things to you where anyone can stroll in and see.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his dirty words, even if you can only process half of them.</p>
<p>“Who has a bigger cock? It’s okay, you can tell me,” he coos, his breath fanning over your face, intoxicating you. No answer, only moans. You feel a sharp sting on your cheek, the faint outline of a handprint already flushing your skin.</p>
<p>“<em>Ungh</em> You, Matty,” you finally reply, all breathy and soft, your brain catching up with his question, “your cock is bigger.”</p>
<p>“That’s fucking right.” He grabs your throat.</p>
<p>“I don’t give a shit who you call your little boyfriend,” he grinds out, squeezing your neck tighter, “because this,”<em> thrust-thrust</em>, “doesn’t belong to him,” the only other sound in the room is his balls smacking against your ass while he pounds into you, “or <em>anyone</em> else.”</p>
<p>Growling right in your face, he asks, “Who <em>does</em> it belong to?” <em>Thrust-thrust</em>.</p>
<p>When you don’t answer again, he really clamps down on your throat and only let’s go when your face is turning blue and you tap his wrist, indicating you can’t breath.</p>
<p>“WHO?” he growls again, white teeth flashing, jaw clamped tight.</p>
<p>“Yours! It’s yours!” you rasp, sucking in oxygen, color returning to your skin.</p>
<p>“Exactly, <em>EXACTLY</em>!” he howls, digging his calloused thumb in circles around your clit, making your muscles tense up. Your orgasm rips through you–-blinding you, deafening you–-catapulting you into another dimension.</p>
<p>He pulls his purple cock out, bulging with dark veins, and spurts seemingly never-ending ropes of hot white cum all over your exposed tits. He then proceeds to smack your hand-print clad cheek with his still engorged cock and smears his remaining spend on your face.</p>
<p>While you catch your breath, he puts you back together; straightening out your skirt and covering your chest up, even taking the time to make sure your bra straps are perfectly in place. He doesn’t bother to wipe you up, wanting to leave his scent all over your body and clothes.</p>
<p>He offers you both hands, which you take, and gently pulls you to a sitting position in between his legs. Placing one hand behind your head, he pulls you toward him and licks the little drops of cum from the sore spot on your cheek, then kisses the salty droplets into your mouth; taking the time to lick it into your tongue, the roof of your mouth, and the inside of your cheeks–-hoping desperately that you’ll be able to taste him for days.</p>
<p>When the kiss breaks, you pull back with a soft sigh and look up, catching his dark eyes turn predatory again when you run your tongue over your lips for one last taste.</p>
<p>“You better get out of here before I bend you over that table and fuck you again,” he snaps. Pulling away from you, he heads toward the door to get back to work, scratching the back of his head and mumbling under his breath, “at this rate, you’re gonna get me fuckin fired.”</p>
<p>Needless to say, you shuffle out of the building as quickly as you can–-shirt slightly damp, thighs sticky, face flushed–-avoiding all eye contact on your way out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!<br/>- HR Shells<br/><a href="https://leatherboundbirate.tumblr.com/">Come chat with me on Tumblr!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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